The Otherside of the Wizarding World
by AlannaSilverwolf
Summary: A young muggle-born orphan finds herself attending a new school. One where there are people who care about her, friends to make, and a better life to have. (Rated M for MUCH later chapters. She's only 11 right now)


Alánna was a particularly small kid, even for 10. She didn't mind, her size didn't give her much problems, except when adults wanted to ask her where she was supposed to be, and where her parents were.

She didn't know where her parents were. In a ditch maybe. Her mama was probably dead in a hotel bed somewhere, overdosed on meth with a cock in her mouth. Her papa, well, there was no telling where he was.

Alánna had been living from hotel to hotel, couch to couch, alley to alley, since she was born. Her parents didn't care for her much, outside of teaching her how to get them more money, or more drugs. She knew the only reason she knew how to read, write, or talk at all, was because her mama wanted her to be able work her books while mama made more cash. Just enough for the next run-down place anyway.

She wouldn't have known any better if it wasn't for her adventures now into the better parts of town. She couldn't sleep out there, she'd be picked up and put in the system, somewhere her mama ground into her head to never be. That place was worse than the streets, she heard. How anything could be worse, she didn't know, but if there was worse, she didn't want to see it. But she'd clean herself up, either in the library bathroom, or the gas station up the road, and slip into the better part of town, if only to get a bit of better money.

The nicer neighborhoods, the riches folks, they didn't lock their cars at home, they didn't latch their windows and leave the door locked when they left the house. They weren't as worried about leaving it every now and then. People wouldn't commit such petty crimes there.

And Alánna kept them thinking that way. She wouldn't take enough for them to notice. Just enough to feed her. A stray bag of chips, a couple of pickles, slices of bread and lunch meat, couple pieces of cheese, and a good handful of silver change from the change jars. Occasionally, there would be chocolate, and that was always her favorite to take. Just a piece or two, but she couldn't help herself.

She liked the cars better though. She didn't have to case a car, she didn't have to worry so much about fleeing at every movement or sound, though getting out windows was an art to her now. Cars were almost guaranteed to have loose change, and depending on the mess in the car, a new blanket or jacket for her to have.

She watched other kids her age, in these neighborhoods, walking in and out of nice houses, running into parents arms, coming home with clean clothes and school bags full of books. Some part of her wished she'd get caught by a nice, older mom. One that would take her in. Maybe one that bakes pies like the lady on Elm St., or one that makes hot tea every morning and sips it on her porch with a cigarette in hand, like the one on Johnson Rd.. But she never let herself get caught.

She crawled into her space under the tall building downtown. The weather was starting to get colder. The air was crisper. She wasn't too worried. Her hide-y hole sealed well enough, and she blanketed the entrance almost as well as her own nest of blankets, jackets, and sleeping bags in the far corner of the crawl space. She was glad the building was fairly new, the crawl space having a thick tarp all around, to keep out critters. She was even more glad they used such a basic pad lock on the entrance. It was a good space, even among the other street rats. Her food stash was getting small again. Cans of spaghetti and meatballs and chicken noodle soup, while the most filling, were about all she had left, and not much of either of those. She'd need to make another run to Kroger soon. Her own bag couldn't carry much, but if she traded small items, candies and such, to Wolf, three blocks down, she could get a few cans of fruits and veggies, and if she was really lucky, a can of salmon, though that was normally out of her price range.

Her one can opener sat near her blanket-pillow, along with the knife she took everywhere with her. Her small pile of clothes sat against the wall providing cushion, though she was sure every article needed a wash by now.

She undressed and grabbed a bottle of water from the food stash. The one thing she would never lack for. She made a habit of refilling at the library's water fountain every other day. At least three or four bottles. They never seemed to mind, and all the kids used it. The library was a safe haven for the more well-behaved, quiet bunch of kids. Those like her, who never said much, expect to get what she needed. She kept her nose in books, or her hands searching for change.

She crawled into the nest of blankets, glad she had gotten the bunch washed the day before, as something in one of them had fleas, and she failed to wash it before throwing it into the pile unknowingly. She wouldn't make that mistake again.

She closed her eyes and breathed. Tomorrow was officially her birthday. Another year gone. Another year since she'd been on her own. A total of three now. She wondered how her mama was faring, if she did as well as her. She thought so. She could lay down for a nap, unlike mama. She was always told these were good for her. She didn't think she had time to be napping, but she always tried to do what was good for, lest she end up like mama.

She began to drift when she heard a loud screeching, and what almost sounded like, a hoot? Was it dark already? She didn't think she had gone to sleep, but only an owl made that noise, and owls were night creatures, if she remembered reading correctly.

She went to her door and pulled the blankets away. She jerked it open with a thud to see a rather large tawny owl staring her in the face. She scrambled back a bit, only to have it hop forward towards her. There was something attached to it's leg.

She tenderly reached out towards it, unsure what the owl wanted. If it thought it was getting any of her food it was mistaken.

But no, the owl wanted her to take the paper attached. It dropped the letter at her feet and left her hideout, flying away without another thought.

She sat down, not bothering to close the door again, to examine the mysterious paper. Had Wolf figured out how to train owls now as well as dogs, to deliver his goods. Did he just want to show off?

She opened the letter and scanned over it.

"We at The Sanctuary would like to welcome you as a new witch, to our school of witchcraft and wizardry. School starts on September 20th. Enclosed is a list of all school supplies you will need as well as a list of your beginning courses. The plane leaves on September 19th at 12:00pm from Gate 13 ½."

And it was signed, "Dr. Magnus, Headmaster of The Sanctuary; Old City"

This was a bit much, and had even Alánna talking, "What the fuck is all of this?"

She glanced over the next couple of pages.

"A wand? Cauldrons? Robes?" She scrunched up her face and tried to comprehend it. "What the fuck is Muggle Studies? Defense Against the Dark Arts? Transfiguration? What am I even looking at?"

She didn't have much time to ponder it as someone shined a flashlight into her hole, calling under to her.

"There somebody down here?" Shit. It was a cop.

She tried to scurry into a dark corner, but it was already too late, she was seen.

"Come on out of there kid. This is private property, and nowhere for a child to be."

She shook her head in fear, wishing, hoping, this man would give up and go away. He didn't.

The officer started crawling into the space after her, reaching a hand towards her. She yelped as a hand touched her leg, but not nearly as much as he did. A violent purple light pushed the policeman away from her, and he slumped against the far wall, apparently stunned enough to seem knocked out. She took the opportunity to run.


End file.
